Hermetica
by The Guitar Person
Summary: The man before her was familiar and that hurt her above all else. Now, she learns even that familiarity may have been a lie. A different take on the whole Vergil-Nero relationship. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1: Lazarus

**I effin' love this game series.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. I'd be rich if I did and I would be making this into an actual videogame, not just a story :D**

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Kyrie had counted nearly fifty different kinds of demon skulls adorning the wall of the dimly lit office. She could only imagine the kind of battle experience that must have gone with each one -- although, it was safe to say that whenever one faced a demon, battle experience was about as far off from what one expected to get, as say, a strawberry sundae.

"Kyrie, was it?"

She suppressed the involuntary shudder going through her body and failed miserably. Her eyes continued to wander across the room, this time focusing on the neon tube decorated jukebox playing, what was it called, jazz music.

This one took quite a bit of concentration; the musical device was, after all, only a few feet past _his_ shoulder.

"You've been avoiding looking at me all this time."

Her breath hitched in her throat as she struggled not to let out a whimper.

"I'm sorry." She replied, dropping her gaze on her hands folded in her lap.

"What for? It's completely understandable." he drawled languidly, and for a moment , she nearly broke down.

It was the very same voice that said sweet things to her as she fell asleep, that firmly assured her of her safety in the face of danger and that constantly declared undying love for her.

"Are you alright?" he asked again, the clinking of the cup of chocolate she had made for him stopping momentarily.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her voice shaking in barely restrained fury. "What has Nero done to you to deserve this?"

In a moment of courage, she bravely met his eyes -- the same frost-like blue as her Nero's, but lacked the distinct warmth she had always seen.

"Dante didn't tell you." he said calmly, resting the cup of chocolate on the saucer and placing it on the small coffee table in front of them.

The songstress looked torn between demanding a straight answer and screaming at him. She instead focused her hatred laden gaze on the cup of chocolate resting on the table.

He drank it with two shots of strawberry syrup, nearly boiling hot.

How dare he.

"I know what happened." Kyrie said again, bravely keeping her voice even. "Dante -- he went to Fortuna because Nero had been hearing voices and speaking different languages. He said the Yamato was acting strange and he was having visions of fighting someone on top a giant tower!"

"And I fail to see how you've made the connection to this being my fault." he replied again, a touch of genuine surprise in his voice.

Kyrie glared hard at him. This man had styled her Nero's hair to his own liking, swept back from his face and pointed in harsh spikes. When Dante had carried his unconscious form back to Devil May Cry, he was still dressed in Nero's old clothes but as soon as he awoke, he demanded a change of clothing from the red clad hunter, who surprisingly obliged.

Dressed in the blue leather coat, high boots and brown fencing gloves, he looked every part the long lost Other Son of Sparda.

"Why are you possessing him?" she asked again, glaring at him once more but her gaze had lost most of it power. Despair had begun to creep in and it was taking over fast.

"Kyrie." He said, a surprising hint of warmth in his voice. "I am not possessing him."

His words, while holding an almost reassuring air, did anything but calm her already frayed nerves.

Liar, she wanted to yell but kept calm. "What do you mean?"

"Kyrie, it's _me_."

Her heart began hammering in her chest, sorrow, confusion, anger all blending cruelly.

"I'm sorry that Dante hasn't told you yet – he likely thought it was for your own good. Think about it. Nero has always been a unique child, hasn't he?"

She nodded hesitantly.

"Always healed from every injury? Immune to poison, sickness and possession?"

"Yes, I remember. He's always been like that, ever since I knew him."

"Have you ever been told as to why the name Nero was chosen for him?"

"Yes, because of the black cloth wrappings they found around him when he was found as a child by the Order."

To her utter bewilderment, the white-haired man actually smirked.

"What they found around him _was_ black, but I can assure you that it was much more than cloth wrappings. You know of the Order's attempts to create vessels for demonic spirits to reside in?"

Kyrie nodded again, deciding to listen to what the man was getting at.

"You know that they used pieces of a demon they dubbed 'Black Angel', correct?"

Feeling sick to her stomach, she didn't nod this time as the man's story continued.

"They used pieces of the demon's armor that was littered around a field where they detected a strong demonic presence. You know what else they found? A broken sword."

Tears welling up in her eyes, Kyrie glanced at the ornate katana the man held, sheathed in its scabbard.

"Yamato." he whispered, glancing at the weapon in his hand. "Besides the sword and the bits of shattered armor, the last thing they found is the answer to all of this, Kyrie."

She began to weep silently as he continued to speak.

"A baby, lying amidst the debris, wrapped in the darkest, blackest demonic energy they had ever felt or seen."

Kyrie's vision began to blur as the tears began flowing freely from her eyes. The man had risen from his seat and knelt down in front of her.

"That baby was _me_, Kyrie."

"_Nero_?"

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_**A/N: So yeah, a decidedly different take on the relationship between Vergil and Nero. I know that they've released a novel that has more details on Nero's actual nature (I won't spoil it, let's just say I'm not too fond of it) but I haven't had time to read it all yet. Stay tuned for further explanations regarding Nero/Vergil's current situation, as well as the Devil Bringer.**_


	2. Chapter 2: Ouroboros

**Disclaimer: Still don't own it.**

**This is actually a flashback, from just before the previous chapter. I know I said I was going to explain things further, but I was hit by the inspiration to do a fight scene. So yeah, this is probably going to be more than just a two-shot.

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"Get a fucking grip kid. You don't wanna do this," said the devil hunter, spinning one of his guns on his finger. Despite the outward show of bravado, he was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. The kid's power was always something to watch for, but this time around, it felt different.

While Nero had a tendency to use his power more akin to a blunt weapon, he was surprisingly capable of nearly clinically perfect swordsmanship during certain times.

This, unfortunately for Dante, was one of those times.

"I know! But the _voice_....it keeps telling me...." yelled Nero, still holding the Yamato in his malformed right arm. "You're...._we're_ connected in this...."

Dante sighed, holstering his guns and drawing the massive blade strapped to his back. If this _was_ what he thought it was, it was entirely his fault. Maybe leaving the sword with the kid hadn't been such a good idea.

"I fought you before...." said the kid again, shaking his head, his white hair sticking out from under the fingers of his left hand. "Before...we even _met_...."

"You know that doesn't make any goddamn sense, don't you?" said Dante, circling the kid as raindrops began to fall from the sky. They were currently fighting in the courtyard near what used to be the prayer building for the Order Of the Sword.

Dante could remember getting an early morning visit from Kyrie, who had gone to his shop. The kid had apparently gone into hiding and left her a message, saying that it was too dangerous for her to be around him. Feeling helpless, she had gone to the one person she knew could help.

The red clad hunter continued to circle the boy, looking for any signs of movement.

"Yo, kid, you alright there?" he said, finally standing still.

"_Trash._"

It had been such a long time since Dante had felt actual genuine fear, that he thought he was beginning to forget about it. The one simple word uttered from Nero's mouth sent memories of that one emotion flowing back in him.

Faster than one could blink, both warriors clashed weapons again and again, the rain water being turned into aerosol as they blurred in and out of sight. Waves of energy cut through the air, surrounding both fighters in a moving, slicing barrier of power.

_CLANG!_

"Kid, you gotta relax! You're freaking out!" said Dante sternly as he and Nero locked swords. He held Rebellion in a one handed grip, careful not to injure the kid too seriously.

"Shut up! Tell me what the fuck is going on here, Dante!" yelled Nero, also utilizing just his left hand for the sword. With his Devil Bringer free, he threw a punch at the older man who flickered out of his range just before his fist connected.

"Why?! Why is this familiar? Why am I remembering this fight when it's never even _happened_ to me before?"

"Look, I wasn't sure before. By all accounts, what I'm thinking right now shouldn't even be possible," replied Dante, keeping his voice calm.

"You weren't sure before?! Is that why you left this fucking _thing_ with me?!" yelled Nero again, raising the Yamato's blade and pointing it toward Dante's face.

"Yeah, call me crazy, but I thought it was the best way I could watch over you and the sword at the same time."

For a moment, both fighters were silent as the rain continued to pour around them.

To Dante's surprise, it was Nero that began circling him. The demonic katana rested upon the boy's shoulder, in a seeming display of nonchalance.

Then he disappeared.

Purely on instinct, Dante spun around blocking the strike from behind, before pushing back with all his might to send Nero flying back a good distance. Instead of stumbling and falling, the kid landed gracefully in a crouch before rising back up to his full height.

Raising his right hand in which he held the white handle of Yamato in front of his face, he glared at the older hunter. Waves of crushing demonic energy arced off his form, steam rising off him as raindrops evaporated upon contact with the energy.

"You _knew_. And you never told me."

Dante sighed, dropping the tip of his sword to the ground. "I'm sorry."

In the dark of the night and amidst the rain, Dante watched as the boy's demonic right hand began to glow a blinding light that lasted a few moments, before dying down like the embers of a furnace.

Eyes widening, Dante watched as Nero held the sword in a perfect two handed _kendo_ grip, with _two_ perfectly human hands.

"_Die!_"

Vanishing from the spot where he was standing a few moments before, Dante watched as a nearby wall crumbled to dust after being hit by slash from Nero's sword, nearly _fifteen feet _away.

He turned his attention again to the young man, his eyes unseen from the mop of white hair obscuring the upper half of his face.

Slowly and deliberately, he released one of his hands from the handle of Yamato, and swept his hair back.

And Dante didn't just remember fear, but _felt_ it.

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_**A/N: There ya go! Looks like this is going to be a bit longer than I first planned out but oh well, it's at least something to tide me by until DMC5 is announced/released.**_


	3. Chapter 3: Orpheus

**Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. This is where I try to explain what the hell is going on.

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While Devil May Cry was a fairly gloomy looking place, unavoidable because of the decrepit furniture and various arcane markings and talismans littering the walls, get-togethers between hunters that took place there were usually pleasant. It was a refuge of sorts, a place where one could pretend that all people were good and that demons were merely over-imagined flights of grim fancy.

Lady wanted to laugh at _that_ long lost memory. The air in the shop right now was so tense, she doubted even Dante's Rebellion could cut it.

She craned her neck over at...well, he certainly _looked_ like how she remembered all those years ago and she'd be damned if she didn't admit to feeling a tiny bit of terror at the prospect of _him_ still being alive all those years.

Dante had called her in the middle of the night, telling her that they had an emergency at hand and it involved the Fortuna kid, the one with the _arm_.

And so, she found him waiting downstairs by her apartment, apparently having gotten there a few minutes after he had called her, _on foot_. He was smoking a cigarette too when she saw him, looking haggard and dare she say it, _tired_.

When they had finally arrived in his shop, all hell broke loose; she took one look at _him,_ kneeling in front of a crying girl and proceeded to empty the revolver she had brought along into his head. There was a few more seconds of screaming, cursing and guns being _cut in half_ and now here they were.

"Okay...okay...." said Lady, finally speaking. She too had taken Dante's offer of a cigarette and was currently on her third cancer stick.

After she had been smoke-free for nearly two years too. _Damn_.

"If I don't get an explanation in the next five seconds, I swear to God I will kill someone." she said, before taking another drag and proceeding to drop the remnants of the cigarette on the floor and stamping it out.

With a tired (damn it, it was weird seeing him like this) sigh, Dante took her aside and began to elaborate.

How the job in Fortuna had gone, along with the weird kid and his right hand of doom. And more recently, how the kid was getting even weirder and how his right hand wasn't looking so doom-y anymore.

"Jesus Christ. Fucking Nazareth." Lady muttered, hand on her hips as she took a moment to digest the information. "Are you sure it's him?"

The half-devil snorted. "Pretty fucking. He sure moves like him. And he asked for a change of clothes when he got here."

Lady snuck a sideways glance at their current predicament, who was sitting amenably across the still frightened looking girl. "So, what is this? Possession? Clone? Another brother of yours?"

"Considering the age difference, a son more likely." Dante muttered.

Lady had an unreadable expression on her face. "You're right. He does look kinda young. Makes sense though; when was the last time you had sex?"

Dante smiled.

"Never mind."

"Nah, he can't be mine," groused Dante. "I'm always careful when it comes to that. Fucking CSI and House won't be able to find anything if they tried."

"Good to know. Your fuck buddies know that?" she snipped at him.

"Jealous?"

"Fuck you."

"You wish."

Another beat of silence ensued as both hunters turned slowly back at the impromptu houseguests. Striding over the couch, Dante took a tentative seat on one end as the kid occupied the other. Lady had chosen to stand by Kyrie who was sitting by a smaller couch perpendicular to the larger red one.

"So, what do we call you?" asked Dante, not looking at the kid.

"I really don't have a clue. I remember everything – who I was, who you are and who we became...but I also remember...other things."

"What kind of things?"

"I remember having you for a brother. But I also remember having _Credo_ as a brother," he whispered, his grip tightening around his katana.

"Nero..." said Kyrie, this time rising from her spot and moving to sit beside the troubled youth. She placed a delicate on his, squeezing gently.

"I remember having _you_, Kyrie. How I swore I would protect you from everything that tried to hurt you. But...I also remember _her_ and how I promised the same thing, but _failed_."

The auburn haired girl swallowed and her lips drew into a thin line. "Her?" She knew it was selfish of her and it made her feel absolutely terrible, but she had to know.

"My mother."

Kyrie's shoulders relaxed. "Oh."

The young man glanced over at Dante. "_Our _mother."

Dante gave a heavy sigh. "So, what now? Do you do your old 'power' schtick and I get to kick your ass all over again?"

"No, it's not like that...," replied the kid weakly. "I...I remember who I'm supposed to be but...I don't feel like I'm supposed to. I mean, I know I should hate you Dante."

"And why's that?"

"Because of your weakness before and because of your strength _now_. I—I remember feeling that we've been given such power, power that frightened everyone we ever came in contact to and we couldn't even protect the one person who was never afraid of us. I hated that you wouldn't embrace the power that was rightfully ours, the power to change everything. I hated that even through all that, you managed to surpass me.

"But I _don't_ hate you for that."

"I'm touched," snarked Dante.

The kid (he still wasn't sure what to call him) smirked. "I hate you because you're a smug, cocky _jackass_."

Lady spoke up. "I'm not getting this."

The kid glanced at her briefly, before shaking his head and dropping his gaze on the floor.

"It's like fucking twenty-four hour _déjà-vu._ I know _you_ too, but at the same time, it's like I'm meeting you for the first time."

Kyrie, still holding his hand, offered her thoughts. "What I think he's saying is that he has two memories, two feelings about everything he'd come in contact with before. And it's confusing because he doesn't know which one to follow."

Lady put a hand on her chin. "Still doesn't explain why he's...how old are you, kid?"

"Twenty-three," he replied, a bit hesitantly. "But...I remember the Order took me in when I was just a kid. They...they took me to lab....and they did stuff to me there....."

Kyrie let out a horrified gasp as her grip tightened around the boy's hand. Dante's eyes hardened and Lady looked stricken.

"You remember anything?" the older half-devil finally asked.

"Yeah, I remember them trying to find out why I was growing so goddamn fast. I could already speak full sentences in a month. I had the mind and body of a two-year old at four months. It was like my mind and body were working overtime so I could survive by myself, if needed."

"Humans _are_ the only creatures that are born almost completely helpless – also, it takes us nearly ten times the amount of time to get ready for survival as other animals do," said Lady.

Dante sighed through his nostrils. "So, how come you're not bitching about '_those damned kids_' right now and eating applesauce through a tube?"

The young man closed his eyes, trying to remember the details. "Because they found that the demonic energy I had around me was accelerating my growth. They tried to use it to repair some of Yamato but they only ever got so far – my power was still immature."

"So what did they do?"

He said nothing for while, his mouth drawn into a thin line. "They decided to perform a little experiment. They extracted the demonic energy from everywhere in my body, except for one place, just so they could see what would happen."

"Your arm." Kyrie stated.

"Yeah, the Devil Bringer. It pretty much grew up and left the rest of me behind," he chuckled, giving the songstress a tiny smile.

"I don't get it. That one lab rat I met in Fortuna didn't seem to know dick about you and the arm," said Dante, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't think he did know. The Order's got a hierarchy for this sort of thing – nobody has all the pieces to a puzzle."

"Your arm seems okay now though. How'd that happen?" asked Dante.

"I just redistributed the energy around my entire body again. No big deal," the kid replied with a grin.

"Don't get too full of yourself, you little punk," Dante said, returning the grin with one of his own. "I just kicked your ass a while ago – must've hit you too hard if you can't remember that."

The young man responded by raising his middle finger.

To his utter surprise, Kyrie actually laughed softly.

"What's so funny? You hate it when I curse or do stuff like that," he asked her gently. She had been crying for so long, he had been afraid he would never hear her laugh again.

"N-No, it's just that....I guess it's reassuring?" she replied, as the young man stroked her hand affectionately.

For a while, there was relative silence, as everyone recovered from the barrage of information.

"We'll turn in for now," said Dante, decisively. "Kid, if you start feeling something or hearing something or fucking _anything at all_, you give me a call, you got that? No dickin' around – you call, _immediately_."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a bunch..." came the irritated reply from the young man, dusting himself off.

"By the way, why are you still dressed like that?" asked Lady, noting the boy's attire.

Nero shrugged. "Dunno, just feels kinda right somehow. Although..."

He ran both hands through his hair and, shaking his head, restored his former unkempt hairstyle from the spikes he had worn not a moment ago.

"That's better," he said, smiling at Kyrie. "What say you and I go home?"

"That would be great," said the girl with a grin of her own. Turning towards Dante and Lady, she bowed in gratitude. "Thank you so much, Mister Dante and Miss Lady."

"Not a problem," said Dante, with a wave of his hand. "Remember, if anything comes up, just give me a call."

With that, the two residents of Fortuna moved towards the door.

"Hey Dante," said the young man, his back turned. "Thanks. And I guess....it was good to see you again."

Somehow, Dante knew he wasn't referring to any of their recent meetings. Without waiting for an answer, the kid exited the shop and closed the door.

There was a few seconds of silence as Dante and Lady stood side by side.

"I should go. Call me if anything comes up," said Lady, making her way to the exit as well. "You gonna be okay?"

Dante smiled at her. "Yeah."

Lady gave him a small nod and a grin of her own. "Goodnight."

With an audible click, the shop door closed again. Alone in his office, the red clad hunter made his way to his desk and sat upon his chair old chair, propping his legs up on the table. Glancing sideways, he opened up a small drawer and picked up a item he hadn't looked at for a long time.

It was an old glove, slashed across the palm, stained with blood.

"It was good to see you too, Vergil."

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**A/N: And here we are! This is more than likely an introduction fic to a universe I'm creating, so I'll probably be doing something with an actual storyline next time! One more chapter after this, maybe as a setup to the aforementioned future fic. Please read and review guys!**


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